


Here Comes The Sun

by black_dipped_roses



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Crack Treated Seriously, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, So crazy timeline stuff, The guys are modern day musicians, This might be considered crack-y
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-04
Updated: 2016-08-04
Packaged: 2018-07-16 17:46:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7277767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/black_dipped_roses/pseuds/black_dipped_roses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems The Beatles are currently the worlds favorite band. But with this growing popularity comes obstacles, John supposes. And, really, he always expected that- obstacles. He just never expected a double accidental out-ing and a pretend relationship with his best mate to be one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly link, repost or redistribute without letting me know first.
> 
> Sorry if the British is completely terrible; I'm American. I promise I tried!  
> Comments and Kudos are what I live for. So please *insert puppy dog face*

John supposes it had all began with Paul's remark, but, before said remark could be -well- said, there was at least a bit of prelude that could also be held responsible for the entire misunderstanding.

It had been a rough few weeks for The Beatles as they were dead smack in the middle of touring, but they finally had a rare day off which their spiteful manager chose to exploit to the fullest.

They had interviews scheduled for the entire day.

John groaned at the thought of having to do another interview.

Paul looked over to him, "I know it's rubbish; I don't understand why we have to spend our only day off on interviews."

John smiled; it was nice to have someone who could read your mind without even needing a glance around, "It's because Brian's a mad wanker who hates us."

Paul laughed, "I used to think Brian loved us, but, at times like these, I'm not so sure."

John laughed too, "Whose arse do we have to see next?"

"Ah the Rollin' Stones arse, I believe," Paul moved from his seat on the couch to sit in the chair adjacent from John's.

"Goody," John lathered on the sarcasm, head resting on his right hand.

"'Ello," George called into the bus as he entered.

"What is your traitor arse doin' here?" John turned in his seat to face George.

"It's not my fault Brain's a cruel wanker," George laughed as he sat down on the couch, "I'm here to take you to your next interview."

"Already? We just finished the last one," Paul groaned.

"Bloody vindictive managers," John muttered.

"Sorry, but we better get a move on if you don't want to miss it," George stood up and walked over to the drivers seat, "I can promise Brian will be even more of a prat if you miss this interview."

"Yeah, well get on with it then," John waved his hand around signaling George to start driving.

Paul patted John's shoulder, "After this one we have at least an hour to muck around."

"Thank god," John smiled tiredly.

"By the way, George, where's Ringo?" Paul called over to George, leaning back into his chair.

"Probably sleeping, the lazy bastard," George laughed, "Couldn't even be bothered to get up when I left."

~

"Hello," A smiling brunette interviewer held out her hand, "I'm Danica."

"Danica," Paul smiled shaking her hand, "I'm Paul, and this mad git is John."

"Oi," John remarked in faux anger then smiled and shook Danica's hand as well, "As my _acquaintance_ so eloquently introduced, I'm John."

Danica laughed, charmed, as Paul elbowed John.

"I think I'm much more than an acquaintance, Lennon," Paul laughed, looking into John's eyes.

That was it.

The remark that started it all.

Paul looking into his eyes when he said it, John rationalizes, probably only added to the misunderstanding.

Danica blinked a bit before gesturing to the couch in her office, "Please, take a seat and get comfortable. Would either of you like anything to drink?"

After Paul and John declined the offer Danica promptly sat down in the chair adjacent to the couch.

"Do either of you mind if I record this for writing material?" Danica waited for there okay then continued, "So John Lennon and Paul McCartney. Wow, well, I'd like to start off by saying I'm extremely honored to have you both here with me today."

"Thank you," Paul and John smiled, and John swung his arm over the back of the couch.

Danica looked directly at John's arm then turned her attention to the two men's faces, "Speaking of honors, will either of you be making an appearance at the Fincier Memorial Ball in honor of Lenard and Paven Fincier?"

"Well, we hadn't really discussed it," John looked to Paul and used the arm draped over the couch behind Paul to pat his shoulder, "But Len and Pav were close mates of ours, so we'll definitely be attending anything in honor of them."

"Oh will you two be going together?" Danica eyes widened slightly, but neither John nor Paul thought anything of it.

"Well, of course," Paul spoke up, patting the hand John had on his shoulder.

As John looks back on it he begins to notice all of the grave errors in how they acted that no doubt added gasoline to the fire.

"Wow, well thank you for sharing that with me," Danica smiled widely, "Do you mind if that makes its way into the article?"

Paul gave John a funny look, "No, we don't mind."

"Amazing, well, I asked for this interview to discuss your newest album coming out quite soon, so we might as well get on that subject as I am ecstatic to here about this album," Danica wrote a few things in the notebook she kept to her side.

"Yes, of course, ask away," Paul smiled.

"This new album has thirteen songs on it, correct?" John nodded and Danica continued, "Well, I was wondering what were some challenges you faced while making this album?"

"Ah, well, we had an equipment problem for a bit, but, really, this was one of our smoother going albums. Paulie and I just really seemed to be connecting our ideas easily," John patted Paul's shoulder once again.

"Did this development between you have any effect on tone of the album or its creation?" Danica asked looking up from her notebook for a moment.

"Johnny and I have always had this kind of connection. But recently there's been a noticeable lack of drama, and we had the time to really understand what we wanted with this, making the entire transition much easier. Especially with what touring's going to be like and how we're going to present it all because its new and its different," Paul explained, hands moving in gestures ever so often.

"I can imagine. Well, I think its amazing, and I wish you the both the best of luck with everything," Danica smiled widely.

"Thank you," John spoke up.

The rest of the interview went on without any real mentionable happenings besides a few odd comments from Danica on things, but Paul and John simply shrugged them off as an aspect of her personality.

They had absolutely no idea the significance of that interview.

~

It was five in the morning, and John knew someone had to be dying because Brian would never be crazy enough to call him this early in the morning otherwise.

John decided to voice this thought when he answered the phone, "Someone better be dead or dyin'."

"You will be fairly soon. Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Brian griped angrily.

"Tell ya what?" John sat up in his bed.

"About you know what," Brian grumbled.

"No I really don't," John grumbled right back, irritated beyond belief at the early wake up call.

"About you and Paul! I might be your manager, but I thought I was also your friend," Brian sighed, "Did you think I would react badly, or did you just want to get a kick out of me trying to frantically do damage control for your tactless release of your relationship."

"Paul and I, what? And what relationship," John was suddenly much more awake.

"Your relationship with Paul," Brian stated as if it was obvious, "I mean you two can be dim sometimes, but you two couldn't have possibly been stupid enough to think I wouldn't find out. I mean for gods sake you came out in Rolling Stone."

"We what?" John's voice rose an octave.

"Came out. What are you not getting about you two's little interview stunt?" Brian asked then sighed, "Looked I just called to say I wish you had told me before you came out because it sounds like you've been hiding it for a while. You do remember that I'm gay, right? I'm of course very supportive, and I wish you both the best of luck."

'I wish you both the best of luck' John remembered Danica saying those exact words, "Cor blimey, Brian we need to talk. Get yer arse over here quick, and don't call Paul. I'll do it."

With that john hung up and stared at his phone apprehensively, "God, Paul's gonna shit himself when he hears this."

~

"Are you trying to tell me this is all one great big misunderstanding?" Brian asked in a grave monotone.

Paul simply stood with his mouth open, stunned silent.

"Fuck," Brian cursed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"But- but," Paul stuttered, "How- no when did she get the idea that . . . but she- We-"

"I don't know. But somewhere along the line, she got it in 'er 'ead that we're fuckin', and she spread it to the world, son," John sighed, practically collapsing onto the couch.

Paul immediately sat next to him, "I just don't know what we did. I mean I remember she asked about the ball, but friends can go to functions together, can't they?"

"Ball? What ball?" Brian looked from John to Paul suddenly much more present in the conversation.

"The Fincier Memorial Ball," Paul spoke up, "Ya know, the one for Len and Pav."

"You told her you were going to the Fincier Memorial Ball together?" Brian asked slowly, "The ball that is for couples only."

John cursed while Paul's eyes grew wide, "The ball is for couples?"

Rather then breaking out into one of Brian's infamous screaming tantrums he began to laugh.

This scared John much more than screaming would have.

"John, did . . . did we break Brian?" Paul asked quietly.

"Paul, if I say run. I want you to run as fast as you can out of here," John commented watching with abject horror as Brian started laughing harder.

Brian took in a deep breath and turned his attention to the two present Beatles, "Truthfully, I find this entire situation far too humorous to be mad. So, here's what we're going to do: You and Paul are going to fake being a couple for as long as I say you should because the kind of press on this if you came out with the truth would be a shit storm even I couldn't weather. And you are going to all of this without complaints because I can go from finding this situation hilarious to finding it infuriating surprisingly quickly."

Paul and John nodded mutely.

Brian sighed, "Look boys, you're best friends; this won't be too hard. You only need to keep up the ruse as long as it's big in the public eye then we can just cover it up like it never happened. I understand this tour was hard on you, and I know you didn't mean to do this. Really, I'm fairly calm right now."

"Thanks Brian," Paul smiled, "And for what it's worth: we're both sorry to be causing you so much trouble."

"Yeah, you're a damn good manager and family, and we really don't appreciate you enough," John smiled patting Brian on the shoulder earnestly.

"Well, flattery will get you everywhere," Brian smiled, laughing a bit.

"Look, I'll call up Jill, and she'll get together a plan on how you're going to deal with this," Brian pulled out his phone and immediately began dialing the Beatle's publicist.

~

"Everywhere you go hold hands, and if you can manage a few kisses every once in a while you'll be fine. Oh, and no one, absolutely positively no one, is to know this relationship is fake. Do you understand? And before you ask- no, you may not tell Ringo nor George that this is fake," Jill finished her twenty bullet-pointed list with a flourish, smiling as Paul and John sat shocked silent.

"But," Paul began only to stop at Jill's glare.

"Well, if that's all Jill, meeting adjourned," Brian nodded to the two silent Beatles and smiled at Jill before disappearing behind the exit door.

"Well, good luck boys," Jill gave them an encouraging smile before following after Brian.

"Twenty bullet-points," Paul stated dazedly, "With an introduction, hyphens, colons, and parentheses."

John simply groaned before standing to leave with Paul following closely behind.

"How're we s'pposed to tell Rings and Geo?" John asked, turning down empty corridors in an attempt to get to their trailer without having to deal with the press their 'announcement' conjured up.

"I don't know," Paul sighed, running a hand over his face, "Oh god, they're going to hate us for not telling them."

"I think we should just tell them the truth and warn them to act like its real," John slowed his pace as they grew closer to their trailer.

Paul bit his lip, "Do you really think they could keep it together enough to make it look real?"

"If we told them we were risking the wrath of Jill to be good friends I think they would try their hardest," John put his hand on the door, "Are you ready?"

Paul smiled nervously at John, "Ready as ever, mate."

John opened the door to reveal Ringo and George standing and staring.

"Would you two like to explain this?" Ringo held up a copy of the rolling stones interview they had done the previous day.

"Look it's a long story so why don't we all sit down," John moved to fall on the couch while Paul sat down nervously.

"Okay, I just want to start out by saying we aren't supposed to tell you this, so you absolutely cannot act like you know the truth," John began as Ringo and George took seats facing the couch.

"We aren't actually together," Paul blurted, "It was all one big misunderstanding because we said we were going to Len and Pave's memorial ball together, and we didn't know it was for couples only."

"The interviewer took it as our 'coming out' interview and, well, made it the cover of this weeks Stones mag," John sighed.

"So Jill and Brian told us to pretend to be a couple until this whole mess blows over, and they said under no conditions are we to tell anyone the truth," Paul scratched the back of his head.

"You wankers can't say shit, got it? And don't act candid either. Someone might suspect something," John added looking Ringo and George in the eyes.

"This was all a mix up?" George asked barely refraining from laughing.

"I think this is one of the best moments in Beatles history," Ringo began to laugh so hard he fell over onto the floor, George following closely behind.

"Yeah, yeah, get it out of yer system now, ya arseholes," John grumbled.

"This is brilliant," George laughed, "So, knowing Jill, she must have given you a military regime to follow by; let us have a look, ay."

Paul pulled the list out of his pocket and tossed it over to Ringo.

Ringo looked down at the list then immediately burst out laughing, "Geo, Geo, look at number nine!"

"Cor Blimey, this is hilarious! 'If Paul looks even mildly cold John must IMMEDIATELY give him his jumper'. Holy hell, Jill deserves a raise," George followed Ringo into hysterical laughter quite easily.

"Oh god," John groaned putting his head in his hands.

"What are you groaning about?! The list makes me look like a goddamn bird!" Paul griped, throwing a pillow at John's head.

"How is that my fault?" John threw the pillow back to Paul, glaring, almost daring him to bring up who got them into this whole mess.

Paul sighed, "It's not, it's not. Neither one of us knew about the ball, so it doesn't matter anyways."

John looked down at the ground.

Truthfully he was happy Paul didn't stoop to the blaming level because he knows he would have said things he would regret later.

"Right, well, if we don't go out much until this all blows over everything should be normal," John stood up from his seat on the couch, "I'm knackered, gonna go get a bit more sleep."

"I am too; Rings, Geo, don't say anything. Remember?" Paul pointed menacingly at the two still snickering Beatles.

"Got it," Ringo nodded.

"And don't let anyone catch you with that list," Paul commented walking into the room where the bunks sat.

~

"Do we have to go out?" Paul stayed unmoving on the couch, pleading with Brian.

Brian simply raised an eyebrow as if to say 'you got yourself into this', "We've had this signing scheduled for weeks."

"That means 'yes', right?" John sighed from his seat next to Paul.

"What do you think?" Brian commented walking out of the bus, "fifteen minutes!"

Paul could be heard whimpering as Brian left.

~

"They're going to ask questions," Paul groaned.

"Let 'em ask," John patted Paul's left shoulder, "It'll be alright, Paulie."

"I know it will," Paul sighed, "I just really don't want to have to make things up on the spot."

"Cor," Paul's wide eyes turned to John, "Why did we not come up with a story?"

"Bloody hell," John cursed, "Okay, this thing happened-"

"You're on," A brunette came over and physically began pushing them up to the panel.

Paul gave John a wide-eyed look before being pushed onto the stage.

"And here they are: The Beatles!" An announcer called to the crowd, and John felt like it was a battle cry.

"Hello," George called to the crowd and received many calls in return; leave it to George, John thought, to always save the situation.

Ringo patted John's back and smiled when he turned to him, "Don't worry, mate; George and I've got yer backs."

"Thanks ya gits," John smiled and took his seat next to Paul.

"Can never dish out a compliment without an insult, can you?" Ringo laughed.

"Eh, its not my cup of tea."

John leaned over to Paul as the announcer began to speak, "It'll be alright."

Paul smiled graciously, "Thank you."

"We will begin with a questions and answers panel then later on The Beatles will be sighing autographs," He smiled and turned to the four Brits on stage, "Ready?"

John nodded to the announcer then faced the crowd, "Right then. One at a time please."

"Never thought I'd hear you say that, but I guess now that's changed," George commented under his breath so that only his three friends could hear.

"Sod it," John growled, and George simply laughed.

"'Ello luv, who's your question for?" Paul asked, pulling George and John out of their banter.

"It's for you," A tiny red-headed girl answered with a smile.

"Great, go on then," Paul said encouragingly.

"Well, is it true? -What the gossip magazines are saying about you and John being together. And if so I think that's wonderful!" The girl said a little shyly.

Paul turned a bit red, but, sadly, it was just enough for the crowd to see and begin cooing.

"Ah, yes, it is," John jumped in, throwing his arm around Paul.

Paul gave him a small smile and immediately seemed a bit more at ease, relaxing into John's arm.

John felt unreasonably happy at being able to calm Paul down so easily, but he immediately explained it away.

A bloke can feel happy about making his mate happy.

That's completely normal, just like leaving his arm around Paul.

"Next question," John smiled at the crowd.

A girl quickly raised her hand, and John pointed to her, "How did you two realize you were homosexual or bisexual?"

This time Paul was more composed and decided to answer, "When I was fifteen a bloke came on to me, and I realized that I didn't . . . dislike it? Ah, so that was really when I began to think I might like the same sex."

John stared at Paul wide-eyed; Paul wasn't lying.

When John stared at Paul a bit too long Paul decided to call to him, "John? John."

"I don't remember there being a definite time," John turned back to the audience, "I think I've just always found both sexes attractive."

If Paul was going to be honest John might as well be the same.

It was Paul's turn to look at John in surprise, "Thank you, next question."

A tall blond raised her hand, "When did you guys get together?"

Paul turned to John, asking the silent question, and John turned to the audience, "Well, this morning Brian came into our bus and told us we had a question 'nd answerin' panel we 'ad to do. So we drove 'ere, walked out onto this stage, and I sat down next to Paul. That's how we're together."

After the burst of laughter from the audience Paul spoke up, "To actually answer your question it happened by accident. We were fighting about my, ah, choices in dating when-"

Paul paused for a moment, so John quickly jumped in, "When he yelled 'Why do you care about my choices?', and I yelled 'I care about your choices because I'm in love with you, you sodding git!'. It was quite cliché really."

"When we heard the story we thought it sounded exactly like something John would do," Ringo smiled to the crowd.

"How did you react, Paul?" A different woman asked.

"I," Paul kept his eyes adverted from John's gaze, "I was very surprised because I had felt this way for a while now, and I hadn't even dreamed of John feeling the same. So when it happened I was just silent in shock."

"I took his silence as, well, maybe not disgust, but I thought he didn't know how to deal with my declaration, so I started to leave. Paul, of course, chased after me-" John's eyes didn't leave Paul as he continued on with his 'recounting'.

"I kissed him," Paul finally turned his gaze to John.

"And the rest as they say is history," George finished when neither Paul nor John decided to begin talking again.

"Yes, history," John whispered as he turned away to look at a nonexistent spot on the panel table.

The rest of the Q and A went on fairly easily as they fielded questions on albums and easier topics, but John couldn't shake the feeling that this entire ruse was going to change more than just how the public saw them.

He wasn't sure if that thought scared him or excited him.

~

"Paul wait, can we talk?" John called to Paul as he jogged behind him.

After the interview Paul had been uncharacteristically quiet and he would never directly meet John's eyes; John was beginning to think he mucked something up again- it is his MO after all.

"Sure John," Paul stopped at the hotel entrance but didn't turn to face John.

"So, you're ah-" John started but began to trail off when he couldn't find a way to lightly ask the question in is mind.

Paul gave a defeated sigh, "I'm what John?"

"Bi?" John asked, voice light.

"Bi? Oh. oh, yes. I, ah, am bi, yes," Paul smiled, but John couldn't help but notice that he looked oddly relieved.

Odd.

John gave Paul a searching look before quickly writing off his relief as a natural response to revealing a long kept secret, "You should 'ave told me. I mean you've seen me with blokes before; you couldn't 'ave thought I wouldn't accept you."

Paul walked to stand in front of the elevators, pressing the up button before answering John's unasked question.

"Well, it just wasn't a thing really. All the guys I've been with never meant anything, then I was dating Dot and it seemed serious for a bit, and I guess in the end I just didn't think it was worth mentioning when there wasn't anyone specific to mention," Paul shrugged, and John knew part of it was a lie, but if Macca didn't want to tell him then he'd just deal.

"That's okay, but Paulie," John moved so he was right in front of Paul and Paul was looking into his eyes, "You know you can tell me anything, right? Because you know I'll always be here for you. You- you mean a lot to me Paul. You're my best mate in the whole wide world, son. Please don't forget that."

It was very, very, very rare for John Lennon to get serious and emotion with his male friends when not under the influence of something, and the weight of that fact could definitely be felt in the air around John and Paul as John finished his impromptu speech.

Paul looked at John with wide eyes filled with so many emotions that John couldn't name; there were some easy emotions in Paul's eyes like surprise and relieve, but there was also an overpowering amount of an emotion John originally assumed was worshipful.

But now, as John looks into Paul's soft brown eyes so close to his, he knows its something else; he just doesn't know what. And as John opens his mouth to say something, anything- the elevator dings.

Paul startles but quickly recovers, "Right, well, we should get back into our room."

"Yes, well," John gestures his arm towards the door and bows his head, "Ladies first."

Paul simply raises an eyebrow, "Then why aren't you already in?"

John smiles, "Because I'm not the bird in this relationship, remember?" John knows he shouldn't have said that as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

Paul's smile fades, "Hurry up and get in the elevator before I leave you behind, arsehole."

John quickly walks in after Paul, "Paul, I didn't-"

"I know, it's okay," Paul gives John a smile, and John's relieved to note that its only a little tight.

"Fuck, Paulie, why am I always such an arsehole without meaning to be," John sighs because he knows he needs to apologize more.

"Its just in your nature to be a prick, John," Paul smiles again, but this time the smile's completely real, "You know, just like Ringo's destined to be eternally lazy."

"Ringo can be quite lazy," John smiles happy that Paul's happy.

And for the moment everything was simultaneously the same as always and completely different.

John decided he could get used to the feeling.

~

Coming out in the Rolling Stone actually turned out to be a huge success, or at least that's what Brian says when asked about his oddly good mood.

Apparently the gay community is a lot larger than John originally thought because all of the sudden their fan base became even larger.

John didn't think it was possible for the Beatles to be bigger stars than they currently were, but he was obviously sorely mistaken.

"Isn't this bar great, Jonny?!" Paul was definitely a bit drunk, but John wasn't complaining as his mate hung on him like an octopus.

"Sure is Macca," John actually didn't know why he was so content with Paul all over him; its not like he could really talk anyone up with Paul using him as a backpack.

"I don't usually drink this much, do I Jonny?" Paul smiled brightly up at him, and John felt something funny happen in his stomach.

"No, I don't think you do Macca," John laughed, "Usually I'm the one who ends up drunk when the party's over."

"The party's over?" Paul looked unreasonably devastated, "But Jonny no, no the party can't be over. Don't let the party be over Jonny, please, please, please."

Paul was looking at John like he could fix all of the worlds problems with the flick of his wrist, and, well, John has trouble saying no to Paul, even when he's not being unreasonably cuddly and adorable- as is his current disposition, "Okay, we can stay a bit longer, but stick by me okay?"

Paul's face lights up like a Christmas tree. Like a dopey, adorable, lovable Christmas tree. John might also be a bit drunk and is probably going to have to have a serious talk with himself when he remembers what all exactly he thought about Paul, "Of course I'll stay with you Jonny. I promise I won't let you go for the whole night, not even once. You're stuck with me, Lennon."

And if Paul's smile turned a little lopsided and John had to physically stop himself from cooing, well, its just a fact of life that you can't know Paul McCartney for as long as John has and not be a little in love with him.

"Jonny, look, its Ringo!" Paul stated excitedly, already pulling John over to Ringo.

"Ringo! Did you know that Jonny is amazing?" Paul asked standing by the table Ringo sat at.

"Yesterday you called him an arrogant prat," Ringo smiled almost indulgently at Paul.

"No I didn't. I would never. See Jonny holds me up when I think I'm gonna fall. And, and, he's always there. And Jonny you are the best thing that ever happened to me," Paul's eyes were wide and honest, his expression earnest, and John felt his heart ache in an odd sort of way.

"He looks at you like that all the time you know," Ringo says so quietly John almost didn't hear it.

"Like what?" John knows he knows that look; he just can't remember where he's seen it, but he's quickly deciding that it's his favorite thing on the planet at the moment.

"Like you hung the moon," Ringo states calmly with a small smile.

John turns to look at Paul who is chatting amicably with George and smiles when he notices Paul laced their fingers together. He doesn't know how he didn't notice, but, then again, he also didn't notice George popping up to talk with Paul either, "Paul."

"Yes, Jonny," Paul seems a bit more sober now that George has switched his alcohol with water, but that expression's still there.

In that moment all John wants is for him and Paul to be alone.

"Are you ready, Macca?" John asks only a bit breathlessly before pulling Paul away from George and Ringo, waving goodbye as soon as Paul nodded.

Once the cold air hits Paul he immediately begins to shiver, and John immediately pulls off his jacket draping it over Paul.

"You don't have to do that, you know. There's nobody here to see," Paul says in a small voice, only slightly stumbling over his words.

"I want to," John says calmly, placing his jacket more firmly over Paul's shoulders.

Paul's quiet for a moment before turning to look at John, "I meant what I said earlier."

"You've said a lot of things Macca, most of which I'm going to hold over your head for years," John laughed.

Paul pouted, "Well, maybe I didn't mean what I said."

"Oh now, come on Paulie, tell Jonny all of your secrets. I promise he'll be nice," John smirked.

"I was going to say that I think you're amazing, but obviously it was against my better judgment and influenced by alcohol," Paul turned away from John, shivering and pulling the jacket tighter over himself.

"I was kidding around, Macca," John moves to lightly knock his shoulder against Paul, "And just so you know, I find you quite amazing as well."

"Really?" Paul turns to John with a smile, and John smiles back with a nod.

Paul stared at John with eyes filled of the same emotion John couldn't name before opening his mouth, "John I-"

Paul's eyes became wide and his shoulders scrunched up before he promptly dashed away from John and began to throw up in the alley.

"Shit Macca are you alright?" John rubbed Paul's back as he dry heaved.

Paul coughed, "I drank too much."

"You feel better now?" John asked after Paul stood for a few moments without gagging.

"Yes, thank you," Paul sighed.

"Okay, let's go back to the hotel then, ay," John pulled his hand away from Paul's back once he noticed he hadn't stopped rubbing soothing circles and, oddly enough, immediately missed the contact.

Paul simply nodded, and John couldn't help but feel he seemed disappointed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I just wanted to give a big thank you to the people that liked and commented and gave kudos. Okay on to our designated program-

"There's been some discussion recently on the newly revealed relationship between the famous leading Beatles, Paul McCartney and John Lennon, but the one thing no one's asking is 'What do the fans think?'. So this reporter set out to get the scoop on what your biggest pop-rock stars fans are saying," Paul read the introduction of the article in the teen rag he had found aloud to John, "Now we all know John Lennon has had some serious relationships, but what about Paul? Well as explained by 17 year old Sandy R. Paul's just 'not the right guy': 'Yeah, I mean, Paul McCartney is super hot, but he's a playboy. John's just not into that kind of thing. Really, John could do soooooo much better. Paul's got what? His looks? Yeah John's the one with the real talent; Paul's just, like, riding his coattails.' Ashlee S. didn't have a difference of opinion on this subject either, 'Oh, yeah, John should totally dump Paul because Paul's going to break his heart anyways, and John's like way hotter. Seriously why are they even together?' and many other fans we interviewed said the same thing 'He's probably screwing John just so he can keep his place in the Beatles', 'I feel bad for John', 'John if you break up with Paul I'm totally available', 'He could do so much better', 'Paul McCartney's a slut', and 'Wow John, where did your morals go?'. You read it here first: the fans have spoken, and they think John Lennon should dump Paul McCartney."

"Who wrote that?" John demanded in a very low voice.

"It doesn't matter, John. Dammit, I didn't mean to drag you down into my mess," Paul spoke in a slightly broken voice while running his hand through his hair tiredly .

Paul looked like he got absolutely no sleep and cried for hours.

John was so fucking angry his hands were shaking.

"Paul, no, you are not dragging me down into anything. You are bloody amazing- fucking fantastic. I'm honored to be your bloody mate! You're so damn talented and kind," John moved to stand in front of Paul making sure his eyes were on him, "I can't believe how lucky I am most of the bloody time to even know you! You truly and deeply care about people, which isn't always great because when arseholes like these people pop up you care about what they think, and they hurt you. You are my closest mate, and you mean everything to me. You're so much more than a friend; you're even more than family. Sometimes I swear you're my bloody soulmate or something because no one in the world understands me like you. You're my better half without the marriage certificate. And you are so, so amazing; I've never met a man more compassionate and loving than you are. If you were to do something absolutely nutters like leave the band tomorrow I, John Lennon, will cry for days," John smiled when Paul laughed a bit, "Really, I will. I'll probably come crawling to you asking you to come back or to take me with you. And I'll never forget you Paul. For as long as I live. I promise I will never forget you."

Paul stared at John for a moment before rushing into his arms, holding on like the world was ending, face buried in John's shoulder.

John quickly wrapped his arms around Paul, quietly rubbing his back.

When they parted John didn't comment on the unshed tears threatening to fall from Paul's eyes; he simply held Paul's shoulder a little tighter and pushed it into the back of his mind for later.

~

"How is Paul? Has he seen this?" Brian asked as soon as he finished reading the article, equal parts angry and worried.

"He saw it. Brian, he wasn't around me, but I know he had been crying," John said voice tight with anger.

Brian blew air out through his teeth, "Those motherfuckers."

"Brian I want that reporter and anyone else who helped on that fucking article fired, and I want to do an interview alone addressing the shit they said," John practically growled, eyes aflame in rage.

"Done," Brian nodded, completely serious, "I'll start making calls right now. Any preference on what mag you want to do the interview in?"

"I don't care as long as it's big," John nodded already beginning to leave.

"John," Brian called right before he could leave the office, "Take care of Paul."

John looked into Brian's eyes, "I promise."

~

"Hello Danica, thank you for meeting with me on such short notice," John greeted shaking the aforementioned reporter's hand.

"No, thank you, John, really it's my pleasure," Danica responded, expression serious, "I also read the article you mentioned, and I was very disheartened by it."

"Thank you, Danica," John took his seat on the couch and began to get comfortable; he knew he would be here for a while.

"Are you ready?" Danica asked politely.

"Very," John smiled.

"I am here with John Lennon, one half of the amazing writing duo that makes up the Beatles, and John I have you here today to talk about recent discussions regarding your relationship with Paul McCartney. What are some of your thoughts on what's being said?" Danica began in typical reporter fashion.

"Well Danica, I'm really quite disgusted and angered by some of the things being said about Paul and I. Today I listened to my best mate- the love of my life-" John was determined to play up the dramatics with this if it meant Paul would get at least some justice, or at least that's what he rationalizes at the time, "read out terrible comments about himself. I had to listen as he berated himself because he believed some of them. He actually thought he was talentless and a slut, he was hurt when they made remarks about sleeping with me just to stay in the Beatles, and he truly cared about all of those gits, who call themselves 'fans', opinions. It was horrible because Paul is absolutely none of those things. Paul is so talented I still, to this day, firmly believe Paul is too good for the Beatles. He is, without a doubt, the most amazing person I have ever met. He's kind and caring. And yes he has been with a lot of people, but that doesn't make him a slut. He just wants love; I truly believe that. Paul he- he's indescribable really because I could go on for hours talking about how amazing Paul is. I could tell you stories of how he would take in strays all the time, and still does if he can find them. I could give hundreds of adjectives for compassionate and incredible, and it would never even start to properly describe him. He's just a beautiful human being. I don't know what I'd ever do without him. Paul he- when you feel like absolute shit Paul is the person who will always be there for you. When my mum died Paul was the person who got me out of bed, who told me that I deserved to live if only to live for her. Paul, cor blimey, Paul means everything to me. I wouldn't be here today without him. I'm in love with him. I- I love him more than I think I've ever loved anybody."

"John, that," Danica began, voice thick with emotion, "that was beautiful."

After that Danica asked a few more question's, and John gave a few more answers, but he wasn't really paying attention.

The rest of the interview went by in a haze because once he had begun to speak about Paul he immediately knew everything he was saying wasn't for show, not even a little bit. He hadn't even meant to say he was in love with Paul; it just slipped out, and he quickly realized it was utterly and terrifyingly true. All of it was true.

John was absolutely petrified.

~

"George, I need to talk to you," as soon as John got to the hotel he knew he couldn't face Paul, so he ran up to George and Ringo's room and promptly barged in.

"John are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost," Ringo asked concerned.

John turned to stare at both of them with the firmest expression he could muster, "Neither of you, under any circumstances, are ever to tell Paul about what I am going to tell you two."

"I've gone nutters, okay. I can't stop thinking about Paul, I get upset when he's upset, I'm jealous and oddly possessive, I don't know what to do, I-" A tight keening noise came out of John's throat before he continued, "God George, I'm in love with Paul."

"John, calm down, it's alright," George soothed as John was practically hyperventilating.

John took a deep breath before collapsing on the couch by the door, putting his face in his hands, "I don't know what to do."

"John, I think you should tell Paul about this," George suggested talking slowly, seriously.

"Have you gone mad?" John almost yelled, "It would ruin us! Paul would never speak to me again."

"John, no he wouldn't, really. This is Paul McCartney we're talking about; he's your best mate. He used to practically worship you, still does really," Ringo sat down next to John.

"That's why it's a bigger betrayal, Rings! He trusts me, and I- I've gone and mucked it up like I always do," John ran his fingers roughly through his hair with a groan.

"It's not betrayal, John. Look let me put it to you this way- love is the closest connection two people can have, and you and Paul are closer than anybody I've ever met," George sat down next to John as well, patting his back, "John, the first thing people always like to assume is the worst. Throughout this whole discovery did you ever stop to think Paul might love you back?"

"He doesn't love me back, Geo," John glared at George getting up to leave, "It's not like that with him."

"Funny he said the same thing," Ringo mumbled under his breath while George elbowed him.

"John, just promise me you'll think about it, okay?" George asked calmly.

"Fine, Geo," and John was out the door.

Ringo sighed loudly once John was out of earshot, "Cor blimey they're idiots."

George couldn't help but agree at this point.

~

"-'I love him more than I think I've ever loved anybody'?" Paul read off, question in his voice.

"I was- in character," John feels like a coward; he can't even look at Paul.

"Yeah, yeah of course you were," Paul looks away from John quickly, something akin to disappointment in his voice.

John takes Paul's disappointment as disapproval of John's actions, "Paul, I was angry. Those arsehole writers made you out to be some attention whore when you are anything but. I just didn't like hearing those things about my best mate. And I'll admit I overreacted a bit. I didn't mean to go off on a tangent; I just wanted those pricks to be admonished."

"No, I- I understand. Really. I was just surprised," Paul smiled, "Thank you. It means a lot to me that you would do something like this."

"Anytime Macca," John smiled softly.

Paul looked down for a moment, biting his lip, before leaning in and kissing John's cheek.

"Sorry, I was in character," Paul whispered when he pulled away, smirk audible in his voice, "By the way, we have a dinner tonight."

John watched as Paul calmly walked away, most likely to go talk to George. And John, well, John's face felt like it was on fire as he tugged on his collar to release some of the heat like he was some sap in a bad rom-com.

He felt inexplicably out of control of his own life.

~

"John, are you panicking?" George asked slowly, voice nervous.

"Me? Panicking? You do know you're talking to the great John Lennon himself, son," John said all faux confidence.

"So yes, he's panicking," Ringo deadpanned.

"John, it's going to be okay," George said slowly, carefully.

"Of course it is. Why wouldn't it be. What even is 'it'. Nothing. There is no 'it'. Because if there was an 'it' then everything wouldn't be okay, and everything is very obviously okay," With the way John went on that tangent Ringo was surprised he wasn't rocking back and forth in a corner somewhere muttering 'Paul' and 'Ball' in a nervous mantra.

"John this date isn't that big of thing. You're just going to a restaurant, and Paul happens to be coming with you," George reiterated John's situation.

"Exactly. It's not a thing," John nodded, still frantically searching through his suitcase for something to where.

"John, I don't think Geo's kind methods are getting through to you, so I'm going to explain this the only way you'll understand," Ringo moved to stand in between John and his suitcase, forcing him to look up.

"This is a thing," Ringo began, "This is a huge gigantic thing, and if you fuck up the band will break up, Paul will hate you forever, and you'll never see him again. If you let your feelings out Paul will use a table knife, that the restaurant provides for him, to stab you in the chest thirty-seven times. You will slowly bleed out with the knowledge that no one loves you and your favorite shirt got more action from Paul then you did."

George's jaw was practically on the floor, and he was about to start frantically doing damage control on John's already severely broken psyche when John snorts.

Actually snorts.

Then he starts laughing. Loudly and obnoxiously.

"Thank you, Rings. I needed that," John wheezed out through slowly dwindling laughter.

"You know what? I give up," George through up his hands, already walking away, "I'm going to talk to Paul because he's apparently the normal one."

"John, it's really not as bad as you think it is," Ringo smiled, "It's just Paul."

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. It's just Paul," John smiled back, "Thanks Rings."

"Anytime John," Ringo waved over his shoulder as he left to go find George.

~

John walked up to the door to his and Paul's shared room only feeling a bit daft as he knocked on the door.

He had bought flowers.

John groaned internally at himself, blaming George for having suggested it.

"Oh, John," Paul smiled, surprised.

John felt instantly calmer, not enough to be considered not nervous, but enough that he could pretend to be his usual self.

So of course he turned up the arsehole charm to eleven.

He smirked at Paul, mischief in his eyes as he pulled the flowers from around his back, "These are for you, gorgeous."

"Oh John, you shouldn't have," Paul lathered on the sarcasm, rolling his eyes.

"I can see the smile in your eyes, Macca," John gave a devilish grin leaning closely into Paul's personal space; his need to tease Paul overruling his nervousness.

"Can you?" Paul raised an eyebrow with a smirk, "What do my eyes say now? Hmm?"

"Well, let me see," John backed up a bit, cracked his knuckles loudly, then leaned in with an expression of exaggerated concentration, "They say that you're desperately in love with me and have never seen anyone more devilishly handsome than me in their entire life."

"Really," Paul asked breathlessly in an imitation of a swooning girl from a romance film.

"Really," John said, voice soft- intimate -as he put his arm above his head, resting it against the doorframe.

"Do you want to know what their actually saying," Paul said in the same tone as before with an eyelash flutter for good measure.

"What are they really saying, Macca?" John's voice had taken a breathless tone on as he began to react to their almost flirtatious conversation.

"That you buttoned your shirt wrong," Paul smirked, voice instantly returning to normal.

John looked down to quickly discover Paul wasn't lying, "You're such a mood killer, Paul."

"Re-button your shirt while I get my coat," Paul called over his shoulder as he walked off further into their room.

John did as he was told while waiting for Paul to return.

Paul walked out of the hotel room taking John's hand like it was natural as soon as John closed the door, "Our reservation is at 'Raphael's'; it looked nice. And we have about thirty minutes to make it on time, so we should be fine."

"Where is it?" John smiled once he recovered from the shocking pure delight that ran through his body when Paul took his hand.

"It's on the corner of Meddlebrook and Foster," Paul explained swinging their clasped hands unknowingly.

John smiled at Paul; he didn't mind if their hands stayed like that for the rest of the night.

He didn't mind one bit.

~

"I haven't been able to see the city when its dark yet; its actually quite beautiful," Paul commented as they walked down a relatively quiet city street, "Just enough light to make it seem warm, but not enough to block out the stars."

"Yes, it is beautiful," John agreed, but he wasn't looking at the city.

"You're not even looking, John," Paul turned to look at John, who had already been staring at him, smiling softly.

"I already know it pales in comparison to what I was looking at," John hadn't meant to say it out loud, but, at the smile Paul gave him in return, he found he didn't regret it.

"Oh my. Is the famous John Lennon secretly a closet romantic?" Paul asked, mock-scandalized.

"Shh, don't tell my fans," John grinned, playing along.

"Well of course not. We can't have anyone thinking you're anything but an arsehole, now can we?" Paul laughed at John's affronted look.

"See if I ever try to be nice again," John shoved his hands deeper in his coat pockets, turning his head to look away from Paul.

Paul simply laughed more, "You aren't offended. Arsehole is practically a compliment to you."

John huffed a laugh, turning his body around and walking backwards a bit ahead of Paul so that he could face him, "How is your evening so far?"

"It's been fairly nice, but there's this weird man that just won't leave me alone," Paul smirked, "I think his name's John, or something rather. He just can't take a hint."

"Oh very funny, Paul," John stopped walking.

"I know; I'm extremely funny," Paul smiled widely, stopping as well.

Paul waited for a few moments, but when John just simply smirked at him he voiced his questions, "John? What are we doing."

John slowly raised one eyebrow with a wide smirk, holding his hands up in front of him and wiggling his fingers.

"John, no." Paul immediately got John's meaning at started to slowly back away, but he wasn't quick enough.

John quickly grabbed Paul and began tickling him as if his life depended on it.

"John . . . please," Paul gasped through a laugh, "ssstooopppppp."

John continued his tirade for a few moments more before stopping with a laugh, "I can be funny too, Paul."

"Painfully funny," Paul muttered good naturedly as soon as his breath returned to him.

John began to slowly rock back and forth, his arms still around Paul.

"John?" Paul whispered into his neck.

John hummed quietly in response.

"What are we doing?" Paul asked swaying with John.

"Dancing, Macca," John held Paul a bit tighter.

"We seem to do that a lot don't we," Paul looked up into John's eyes, "John I-"

A loud police siren interrupted Paul, scaring him into jumping away from John.

John blew out a breath when he saw it was just a police car driving threw the streets, "What were you about to say, Paul?"

"Ah," Paul looked down at his shoes swallowing then looking up, "Nothing. It was just a comment about the cold air."

"Oh. Well, our reservation is soon, so we might as well make our way over there," John bumped Paul's shoulder in a silent signal to follow him.

"It's Raphael's, correct?" Paul asked as he followed John.

"Yes," John smiled, "It's owned by a man and his husband, uh something that starts with an 'S', anyway I assumed it'd probably be a friendly place."

"Every where's fairly friendly when you're famous, John," Paul laughed.

"I know, but it looked perfect for a date anyways," John lightly knocked his hand against Paul's.

Paul locked their pinkies, "That's good, because if you're expecting anything, Lennon, you better wine and dine me right."

John laughed twining his and Paul's fingers together fully.

~

The restaurant was beautiful and just quaint enough to be perfect. John and Paul, of course, immediately had a captivating conversation going on about the merits of Croquettes vs Pisto when their actual food arrived, and, even after, their conversation never stopped, simply spawning into another topic.

 

"I take it the night went well," Ringo smiled as John walked into his and George's room.

"Very well," John smiled, "But it wasn't a real date."

John sighed, smile falling a bit, "It felt like a date, but I know it was all for show."

"Are you sure about that?" Ringo asked with a single raised eyebrow.

"Ring's we've already discussed this; Paul doesn't have feelings for me," John sat down on their couch, stretching out like a cat, "But for tonight, none of that mattered. It was just me and Paul. There was no fake relationship, there were no responsibilities. Everything was~ perfect. And you know what Ringo?"

"What John?" Ringo asked, genuinely curious. John wasn't usually this sentimental.

"I'm content. if that's the only chance I'll ever get to have a taste of what it's like to be with Paul, I'm okay with that. I've never felt like this before. Like I could be happy with anything as long as this other person is happy. It's . . . odd. I feel," John paused for a moment, "Invincible. There were so many things that used to be able to get to me. But now I feel like I traded all of those little things that really get to me for one big thing that will always get to me. I don't know if that's a fair trade or not because on one hand I know none of those little things can really hurt me anymore, but on the other hand there's also this one gigantic thing that could destroy me in an instant. It's a double edged sword. Catch twenty-two if you will. But while everything's going well, God, you feel like you're breathing underwater. You now this shouldn't be possible, you know it's dangerous, you have all of these reasons for it not being natural, for it to be a disaster, but you wouldn't dream of stopping because it's amazing and breathtaking and beautiful."

"That's profound, John," George said when the silence stretched on, having come out of the shower in time to hear John's mini speech.

"Thank you," John smiled, eyes closed.

John felt oddly at peace.

It was a nice feeling.

"I think you've done a lot of growing up recently, Lennon," Ringo stated, taking in the at ease form of his friend.

"So do I, Ringo, so do I," John whispered the end to himself.

"I'm proud of you, John," George smiled down at him, "But I still think you should tell Paul."

"The night of the ball. When it's over I'll tell him. He deserves to know anyways," John said while standing to leave.

"Good for you John," Ringo smiled.

"Hopefully Ringo," John walked out of their room calmly.

He, for the first time in this entire rouse, felt hopeful.

~

"Tonight. The ball is tonight," Paul stated, and John couldn't tell how he was feeling about that from his voice.

"That it is, yes," John pulled a shirt out of his suitcase, inspecting it, "How are you feeling on that matter Macca?"

"Well, it'll all be over by midnight. No more fake dating. I just think it'll be odd going back to how it was," Paul sighed.

"So do I," John tried not to look at Paul, less his face reveal his true thoughts on the matter.

Paul was silent for a moment, "John do you want to stop faking it?"

"What do you mean, Macca?" John asked right before Ringo walked in loudly singing 'Hey Jude'.

"Take a sad song~" Ringo was promptly yelled at by John to "Sod it, you mad narcissist!" and whatever Paul had to say was quickly forgotten.

Paul laughed, "Do you even understand how knocking works, you git?"

"Knocking?" Ringo gave a surprisingly believable confused expression.

"What if we'd been fucking?" John asks, cuffing Ringo over the back of his head.

"Well, I assumed Paul would be a screamer?" Ringo shrugged.

"Sod it," Paul threw a pillow at Ringo's face.

"What's going on in here?" George laughed as he walked into the room.

"Apparently no one understands the concept of knocking," John threw his hands up.

George raised an eyebrow, "John, when have you ever knocked?"

"Well-" John began.

"In fact one time I was with a bird, you walked in, saw us, smiled, then stole a bev from the mini fridge before leaving," George folded his arms with an unimpressed look.

"He has a good point, John," Paul held up his hands in a 'what're you gonna do?' sort of fashion.

John, for lack of- well not a better term but a term John wouldn't profusely object to -pouted.

Paul, the fucker, laughed at him.

"I'll knock next time John," George patted John's back.

"Thank you," John muttered.

"So~" Ringo clapped his hands together, "Tonight's the night."

"It is," George agreed, "Are you ready?"

"Define ready," Paul stood to gather his clothes from his suitcase.

"You'll be fine. Really, it's nothing more than you two have already done," George soothed.

"I know, thank you George; I'm just a bit nervous," Paul smiled at George before returning to his suitcase.

"What do you say I help you get ready while Ringo, here, entertains John, yeah?" George asked sitting on Paul's bed next to his suitcase.

"I think that sounds like a great idea," Paul nodded then turned to John, "John, if Ringo bores you to death please let me keep your guitar in the will."

Ringo laughed while John squawked indignantly, "You wouldn't even come to my rescue?"

"No, no, I would. Well, as long as by rescue you mean come watch you die while laughing at you, then yes," Paul bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Then your plan wouldn't work," John smirked.

"Really, why is that?" Paul raised a questioning eyebrow.

"With you here I wouldn't be bored," John and Paul stared into each others eyes with soft smiles.

George coughed, "Come on Paul."

Paul gave one last glance to John before following George out.

John sighed when the door closed putting a hand over his racing heart while trying to remember if he'd ever felt like this before Paul.

~

"They really took 'the whole nine yards' to heart on this ball," John commented as they walked inside the, intricately decorated, large room full of people.

"Well of course, Lenard and Paven were very important people, and a lot of people liked them," Paul commented, not really paying attention to the conversation as he was rather mesmerized by the luxurious ballroom.

"John, Paul, hello and welcome," A young man with dark red hair greeted with a small smile.

"Kyle, how are you?" Paul asked as soon as he spotted the young man.

"I've been better," Kyle shrugged but smiled with tired eyes, "I didn't really want to come to a big ball this soon after . . . but well it's my parents . . . ball."

Paul pulled Kyle into a hug, a deep set empathy in his eyes, "You know you didn't have to come. They wouldn't have minded."

"Yeah," Kyle rubbed the back of his head, "But I knew if I didn't there would be talk, and I just don't want that kind of attention. My little brother's are grieving enough as it is."

"Hey, sorry, I was getting drinks," A tall man with blue eyes and black hair commented, arm immediately wrapping around Kyle's waist, "Hello, Paul, John."

"Hello Stan," John greeted while Paul said the same.

"Thank you," Kyle commented as he practically downed the whiskey Stan handed him.

"How are you guys? Oh and congratulations on the relationship," Stan smiled, but there was an obvious tiredness in his eyes that came with grieving.

"We're well, thanks; how're you?" John asked politely and honestly curious.

Stan looked down at Kyle, "Well, right now we're despising this event, but we'll be okay."

"We wouldn't hate it so much if it weren't for them," Kyle pointed to a large group of people talking and laughing to the side of the dance floor.

"Who are they?" Paul asked moving his head to see if he could spot anyone he could recognize.

Kyle snorted humorlessly, "Those are my cousins and whatever group of rich douchebags they've befriended. They're using my parent's fuckin' memorial to get clients for their law firm."

Stan glared at the group of people, "I wish we could kick them out without causing a scene."

"Jesus, that's horrible," Paul said surprised by their audacity.

John nodded in agreement, "Some people are just terrible."

"John do you know what time this ball started?" Stan asked turning to him.

"Eight o'clock; we're fashionably late," John answered immediately.

Stan looked at him with pleading eyes, "Do you think we've been here long enough to leave then."

"No one'll notice for hours probably, and we'll cover for you; you're good," Paul answered patting Kyle on the shoulder as he sighed heavily.

"Thank you and thank god," Stan pulled Kyle out the door, "It was lovely seeing you, guys! And we're totally happy for you!"

"Thanks, g'night," John answered before the two were out the door.

Paul sighed, "Well, there goes the only nice people we know in this entire place."

"Yep, seems like we'll have to entertain ourselves," John scanned the room then nodded to the left, "There's the bar."

"Great," Paul immediately began to pull John in that direction, "Anyroad, let's get drunk."

John felt like that was a great idea.

~

"There's a picture of them," Paul pointed at a large picture at the front of the room, "One picture. That's it. No speeches. No words. Just a picture. No wonder Kyle was so pissed off."

"This isn't a memorial ball; it's just an excuse for rich people to get drunk and meet other rich people," John agreed.

"Exactly! It's terrible!" Paul might be a little tipsy, but he knew this was a great injustice. Especially to such good old friends.

John wasn't tipsy, but he had absolutely no problem with Paul being so, as he found Paul absolutely adorable in this state, "So terrible."

Paul laughed at John's mimic, "You know, I could never do these things with out you John. You keep me sane."

"That's probably not good if _I'm_ the sane one," John smirked.

Paul raised an eyebrow, "When did I ever say _you_ were sane? I said you keep _me_ sane."

"That's not much better, luv," John gave Paul an amused look.

Paul pouted, "It's a little better."

John laughed outright.

Paul just pouted more, "Oh sod it, you prick."

"Whoa, when did my prick come in to this conversation," John leered.

"Did it? I guess it was too small a thing to notice," Paul smirked triumphantly at John's indignant squawk.

"My prick is anything but small, _luv_ ," John said in a warning tone that was mostly playful.

"You're right it's not small," Paul said in a defeated voice before smirking, "It's minuscule."

"That's it," John launched himself out of his seat and into Paul, "You're dead."

John tickled Paul for a bit before he got the first 'look' from someone nearby, quickly stopping after.

Paul took in a few deep breaths, "Why do ya always go for the below the belt shots?"

"Tickling is 'below the belt'?" John asked laughing breathlessly.

"It is for me," Paul stood up from his chair.

John wiggled his eyebrows, "Really?"

"Not like that, ya git," Paul rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, "I'm gonna get us some more drinks."

John nodded once again surveying the crowd.

After looking around the room three times John was fairly certain not a single person in this room, excluding Paul and himself, actually gave a damn about Paven and Lenard; which is a right shame because they were good people.

Speaking of good people, John turned towards the bar in search of Paul. Who he found.

Talking.

To a woman.

A pretty woman.

John cursed under his breath.

He doesn't know why he didn't expect it; Paul and him had been going on with this rouse for weeks now, and men have needs. He might have fooled himself into a bit of hope at Paul returning his feelings, but all that hope was gone at the sight of her.

John felt stupid.

Paul was still talking to the girl, but now he was smiling widely with a look John had never seen Paul wear before.

He shouldn't have thought Paul would actually return his feelings. What would Paul even see in him? John sighed, he needs to do the honorable thing for once in his life. He needed to tell Paul they could break up, that it was okay to go with this girl, that he won't mind. God, John is an idiot.

"Hey," John was quickly broken out of his musings by Paul's greeting.

"'Ello," John replied tersely then sighed, "Look mate, why don't we just break up now."

"What?" Paul asked a little loudly and confusedly.

"Or fake break up. Its- well you've obviously just met someone, and we were gonna end it tonight anyroad," John nodded towards the girl Paul was talking with.

Paul followed his gaze to the girl, "Kelly? John, she has a husband. We were talking about our significant others."

"What d'ya mean?" John felt the smallest pull of hope in his chest which he quickly squashed down.

"I mean I was very happily talking with her because I was talking about you," Paul said slowly as if talking to a child.

John blinked, "You were talkin' about me."

"Yes," Paul smiled, "As you are my significant other. Or at least that's what I consider you, and I hope I haven't been reading this situation wrong because that would be rather awkward."

"Your significant other," John stood up from his seat, close enough to Paul that their noses were almost touching.

"My significant other," Paul nodded.

"What if I told you this whole time I haven't been acting?" John licked his lips, nervous yet also excited.

"I would tell you I haven't either," Paul bit his lip, eyes flickering from John's eyes to his mouth.

John raised an eyebrow, head tilting ever so slightly, "What if I kissed you?"

Paul smiled, "I would kiss you back."

So John did just that.

~

Ringo groaned.

"What?" George called from the tiny kitchenette.

"I have a feeling," Ringo said forebodingly.

"A feeling?" George walking into the living room with two cups of tea.

"A feeling that John and Paul are going to get together," Ringo nodded to himself with a grim expression.

George raised an eyebrow amused, "Why is that a bad thing?"

George stared at the wall in front of him with a grimace, "We're goin' to have to listen to their get together sex."

George was no longer amused.

~

John smiled knowing that he was going to remember what happened at the ball only hours ago for years to come.

"What're you smilin' at?" A very naked, very adorable Paul asked from his place on John's chest.

"You," John replied simply dropping a kiss to Paul's forehead.

Paul smiled sleepily up at him, "I'm smiling at you too."

"Really, what about?" John just knew his expression was sickeningly fond.

"Well, you said that none of it was actin' . . ." Paul began but trailed off.

"Yes," John encouraged.

"What about what you said in response to the newspaper article?" Paul asked voice quite.

"I s'ppose you mean the 'love of me life' and 'in love with you' parts, eh?" John smiled, carding his fingers through Paul's hair.

Paul nodded into his chest in response, feeling exposed and, oddly enough, shy.

"Macca," John said softly, "It's always been you. When my mum died, when Mimi an' I fought, when birds hated me, when I hated me. It was always you, Paul. You kept me goin'. You kept me alive."

"John," Paul whispered quietly with an expression of complete and utter devotion and love, and, oh, that's the expression John couldn't name.

"I love you, Paul," John knew it was implied, but he might as well say it, if only to see Paul smiling as he is now.

"I love you too," Paul's smile wasn't wide like when he laughs;it wasn't grand or blinding. It was small, but John loved it more than any expression he'd ever seen on Paul. This smile was tiny and private and filled with oh so much meaning, like a secret meant for John and only John, and his eyes, god Paul's _eyes_ were so beautiful John wanted to cry.

Instead John gave him a love filled kiss before hugging him tightly, snuggly putting his chin on Paul's head and just breathing.

John finally decided that he was completely okay with change as long as Paul was in his arms at the end of the day.


End file.
